


A Horse Walks Into A Bar

by Biscuit Lion (cookiethelion)



Series: Valet Service [10]
Category: British Comedy RPF
Genre: Chinese Zodiac, Crack, Dogs, Dragons, Gen, Horses, Minor Violence, Psychic Abilities, palmistry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiethelion/pseuds/Biscuit%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Boy thinks he knows what to expect with Valet Libra. She has other ideas for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by LittleAppleAngel  
> \----
> 
> 1 - 10. [Valet Service](http://archiveofourown.org/works/326601)  
> 11\. **A Horse Walks Into A Bar**  
>  12\. [Story of the Jade](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1101588)  
> 13\. [Black Mane, White Tail](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1162253)  
> \----
> 
> OMFG I'm so sorry for the lack of updates! Uni's been very demanding over the past year, and I'm expecting this year to be the same. I'll try to be a bit more active, but I'll see what happens... orz
> 
> (What do you mean I haven't finished updating HFAVHP? To be honest, I'm getting held down by the final chapter, and it's not even important. Jumping it for now isn't going to create any wierd plot inconsistencies, it's just a chapter to neatly finish off that part. I feel guilty enough not really updating this series, so I'm going to skip over it for now and post it up later, when I've actually got inspiration for it.)

As it turned out, the Western Valet’s equivalent of the safe house was a closed inn on the outskirts of the M25. The road to the inn had been dug up to form a sort of pot-holed country lane, and over the top lay various wild flowers, shrubs, trees and weeds; to passing cars, nobody would suspect a thing.

It was also for that reason that The Boy felt safe to approach the building in his half-horse form. Besides, his hoofs were much better for walking over the tarmac debris, stones, dust, weeds, and the odd ant or woodlouse. He reached into his bag for his plunger nunchucks, which lay on top of his tape, staple guns, snowglobe, balloons yet to be blown up, and other odd items. So far, it seemed that Valet Libra wasn’t about to pull off an outside ambush. In fact, nothing happened even as he neared the entrance, although he felt his stomach churn. Libra had to be nearby.

The door swung open at the tiniest of nudges, and there was nothing amiss at all when he went into the clean reception area. The floors had been vacuumed, windows and surfaces wiped, and a trace of disinfectant hung in the air. The counter was unmanned. Even though the door leading to the rooms consisted of two blurred panes, it was still easy to tell if someone was hiding behind it. The Boy raised his nunchucks to his chest as he walked over to the door. If Libra wasn’t there, then he was going to find Daniel, and get the hell out of there.

He pushed down on the handle, but it went halfway before the getting stuck. He glanced back to the counter, where he presumed the key was, and noticed for the first time that there was a PIN locked door behind it, with a STAFF ONLY sign attached. Yes, it had to be somewhere around there–

Somebody jumped on his back and slung an arm around his neck. He heard the unsheathing of a bladed weapon – probably a knife or something short. The sheath was dropped, but before he could get a good look, he trampled on it, amidst the confusion of his thrashing. He kicked the door and walls a couple of times, and tried to manoeuvre some kind of swing to throw off his attacker, but a tug at his hair forced him to rear onto his hind legs – 

Then his neck was free, and the weight disappeared from his back, and he landed on all fours again. He took in deeper breaths, and hugged his stomach; he couldn’t be sick now, not with the tape on.

“You need to work on that,” said Libra, somewhere behind him.

He turned around, and watched her walk behind the counter, where a pair of traditional brass scales now rested. He had been expecting someone dressed bizarrely, like the other known Western Valets, but aside from the brooch pinned to her black waistcoat, and the short sword (or was it a dagger?), she could have been shopping amidst humans and nobody would look twice at her.

“I was hoping you’d come to me first. At least you’d stay quiet all day.” She placed what appeared to be strands of hair on the left scale plate. The Boy walked over to the scales, and on closer inspection, realised that the hairs were his. So that’s what she got on his back for. He maintained his grip on his nunchucks, but kept them underneath the counter.

“Sorry. I tried to be gentle,” said Libra. She ran a hand through her hair, and then held out a strand. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like fighting at all. To be honest with you, I can’t stand it.” She picked up her sword, and cut the ends of her hair off. “I’d rather figure out what’s going to happen next. Like what I’m doing right now.”

She put her weapon down, and swept her hair into her palms. Without looking at The Boy, she tipped them into the right plate, and clutched her brooch. Nothing happened. The Boy glanced around, then clicked his fingers in front of Libra’s face and pointed at the locked door. She didn’t look up. The Boy waved his other hand in front of her, but she remained unflinching.

Underneath, there was a bang, and the left plate had dropped until the bottom hit the counter. The Boy jumped back. The scales remained unmoving for a few seconds, and then the right plate lowered, although when it stopped, it had only lifted the left by a few centimeters. Libra frowned.

The Boy stared back and forth. Her frown took a while to disappear, but even then, she continued to look at the left plate. When her silence went on for too long, he started to leave for the door; he was going to call Milton and Thom, and then bring them back here to rescue Daniel. She was probably going to remain in the same position when he came back.

“Tell your leader to come and see me,” said Libra. “Pass the same message onto Daniel’s leader. I must see them both. Until then, that door will remain locked.” The Boy stopped, and turned around. She was still concentrating on the scales. He backed away again, though this time keeping his eyes on her.

“Wait.” For the first time, she made eye contact. “Be careful of your tape. Leave it at home if you can. Don’t go anywhere near your leader’s household for the next two months.”

The Boy narrowed his eyes, and folded his arms.

“I can read your palm, if you want.” She placed both hands on the counter, and drummed her fingers. “I use a different type of palmistry. It combines elements of Western and Chinese palmistry, but works only on Valets. The readings on a human would be totally wrong.”

The Boy rolled his eyes, and once again headed for the door. He glanced over his shoulder several times, but Libra remained behind the counter. She waved at him. He pretended to have missed that, and had no sooner left the inn than he galloped until he was back under the cluster of trees and shrubs.

He stowed his nunchucks away, and yanked out a snowglobe that had been nestling at the bottom of his bag. It was identical to the one he had given Milton a while back. For the next week after that event, he had placed the snowglobe so that the dome pressed his hips; that way, he would have felt it vibrate if Milton _had_ shaken it. Once he was certain that his leader had indeed listened to him, it took him a few days for him to stop smiling long enough to stick the tape on.

The Boy shook the snowglobe, and lifted it to eye level. The shadows started to swirl, and then stilled as the image of Milton’s bedroom appeared. The door was visible and being nudged shut by what The Boy presumed was a breeze from an open window. Beyond that, the rest of the flat appeared blurry; he thought he could see somebody’s back, and judging by the haircut, it appeared to be Milton. His master was probably in the house as well; even if The Boy couldn’t enter the flat, at least he knew where to find his leader.

He retreated to give himself enough space to do a run up. Much in the same way how he got to the inn, the moment he jumped, he was thrown into the familiar darkness, and the alley in which he emerged was really the gap in between two buildings. The one to his left was windowless, but to his right, each floor had at least one. Realising that the ground floor had two, and that he was in front of the first, he dashed out of the way. If the owner had been in, he or she would have been able to glimpse parts of his half-horse form.

Now shielded, he looked up and saw Milton’s window on the second floor. At least, he thought that was his room. Out of the three windows, which one was it? He disregarded the middle one; it had such a narrow frame, it looked like a toilet window. The only open one was on the left – that had to be the one. It matched what he saw in the snowglobe.

This time, all he had to do was dart across the second window, and he was already underneath Milton’s. He fished out a biro and a piece of scrunched paper from the bottom of his bag, and once he had smoothed out the latter and pinned it against the wall, he wrote:

I know where Daniel is. Valet Libra won’t hand him over until she sees you and Thom. I want to meet both of you at the usual. The Boy.

He crumpled the note again, but made sure to compress it into an even tighter ball between the palms of his hands. He walked back slightly, so as to get a better angle, and threw the note. For a moment, it looked like it wasn’t high enough and was going to hit the windowsill instead. Then it slipped through the open gap, and tumbled out of sight.

The Boy kept his head up as he placed the biro back into his bag. All he had to do now was wait for Milton to confirm he got the message. He doubted his leader wasn’t in; he had teleported his way here, Milton would have had to move very quickly to miss him. Even if he had chosen to fly, The Boy still would have seen him.

As he waited, he started planning how he could get out. He doubted he had enough space to do another run up without being seen. It wasn’t an impossibility to just jump either, but previous experience of twisting a front ankle upon landing put him off that option.

Then he heard a tapping from above, and he looked up to see Milton looking down at him, the note (now unfolded) in one hand. He nodded at his leader, and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, roughly in the direction of the forest. Milton walked away, and The Boy decided that he might as well do a jump. He’d met up with his leader enough times to roughly know what the ground conditions were like, and he doubted landing on soil, grass, and any leaves and twigs was going to cause any harm.

Before he leapt, he remembered Libra’s warning. He chuckled as he glanced around, and stuck his arms out to indicate he was unarmed. Nobody was nearby, let alone about to ambush him. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to face her again; he would rather take her down in a fight than listen to her jabber on about the future. At least he would never have to see her again once they rescued Daniel.


	2. Chapter 2

“Another one’s been spotted?” said Humphrey, after Milton had called Thom.

“Yes,” said Milton. “For now, it looks like Valet Libra and Valet Virgo aren’t working together. Hopefully it will stay that way.”

Humphrey kept quiet as he watched Milton open the window. The latter would have already left if he didn’t feel his master’s eyes watching him, and he got as far as climbing onto the windowsill before turning around.

“What’s the matter?” said Milton.

“How dangerous is Libra?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to be back in one piece. Don’t worry.”

***

The Boy had been rummaging through his bag when Milton arrived. He looked up, acknowledged his leader with a nod, and then pointed at him before he opened both hands.

“Tuck should be here soon,” said Milton. The Boy nodded, and went back to his bag again. “How did you know I was in the flat?”

The Boy pulled out the snowglobe and shook it. Milton took it, and glared at the image of his bedroom, now with the door shut. So that was what it did.

“Isn’t it easier to use your Item?” said Milton as he handed back the snowglobe. The Boy put it away first, then pointed at his mouth and shrugged. He pushed past Milton, and stood behind him, arms folded. Milton turned around, and for the first time realised Thom had arrived.

“ _Fine_ , I’m not going to do anything,” said Thom. “Can you stop that now?”

The Boy shrugged, and stepped away again. Milton glared at each of them in turn, and cleared his throat.

“We’re all here,” he said, his eyes fixed on The Boy. “What’s Valet Libra like?”

The Boy re-enacted his encounter with Libra. He grabbed a nearby stick from the ground as a representation for her sword, and for scales, he threw it aside and used his hands instead.

“She cut off your hair and weighed it with hers?” said Milton. The Boy nodded. “What for?”

The Boy shrugged, and pointed at his back instead. When neither leader moved, he pointed again, but with an angrier jab.

“You first, sweetheart,” said Thom.

“No. You’re not hugging me. You first.” Milton took a large step back, as if to highlight his point, and Thom got on first.

“Have you got a harness I can use…?” said Thom. The Boy bucked, hind legs first. Thom wrapped his arms around his neck in time; had he been any later, he would have landed on the ground. As he mumbled his apologies, The Boy kept shrugging and shifting until he was holding onto his shoulders instead.

Milton waited until Thom had settled before he also got onto The Boy’s back. He grabbed Thom’s shoulders, but wished The Boy had some kind of harness, especially as he almost fell off backwards when his horse member started his run up. Everything went dark, and then they re-emerged by the entrance of the inn. Once The Boy came to a stop, Thom jumped off his back faster than Milton.

“Are you alright?” said Milton.

“I’m not doing that again,” said Thom. He was looking paler than before, and for a moment, Milton feared he was about to be sick.

“You’re going to have to. You can’t go home from here by walking.”

The Boy kicked the ground backwards, digging up some gravel which rolled on top of each other. Thom and Milton stared at him, and he pushed the inn door open. The place appeared empty.

“You first,” said Milton, looking at Thom. He stepped back, and The Boy followed.

Thom went in, but nothing happened. He was about to turn around, as proof that it was safe to enter, when Libra seemed to jump out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground. She grabbed his left wrist, and prised open his fingers for a few seconds, just long enough for a glimpse over his palm.

He tried to push her off with his right hand, but she let go of his left and caught his right long before he could touch her shoulder. She pinned that arm down, and again kept his fingers straight long enough to read that palm as well. When he tried to swipe her again with his left hand, she dodged and got off him. He stood up again, his dog paws now visible, but by then she was walking back behind the counter.

“Well done,” said Libra, her eyes on The Boy. There was no sign of her sword or scales. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Where’s Daniel?” said Thom, paws still raised.

“He’s in one of the rooms.” Libra pulled open a drawer, and flung a set of keys at The Boy. He caught them, and immediately went to try out all ten keys on the door. As he did so, she bent down and dragged out a box; Thom and Milton caught a glimpse of ROOM CARDS written on one side, before she tipped it over the counter. The cards spilled out over the floor; Thom ducked down first, and Milton was about to join him when Libra interrupted them.

“Not you, Jones. I want to talk to you, alone.” Libra pointed behind her, at the PIN-locked door. Thom stood up, but Milton shook his head.

“Sweetheart–” said Thom.

“I’ll be alright,” said Milton, and he curled in his fingers to form a talon. Thom glanced down, nodded, and went back to scooping up the cards.

As Libra unlocked the door, Milton kept his eyes on her, in case she had hidden her sword inside her clothing. Behind him, he heard a door unlock and swing open. He glanced over his shoulder, and watched The Boy join Thom in gathering all the cards. Even with the two of them, it was going to take a while to conduct a thorough search of all the rooms. Maybe he could force the answer out of Libra; she didn’t appear to have any sort of weapon on her, and whatever her ability was, he was certain he could pin her down with his air abilities.

He followed her down a corridor and into the second room on the right. The room had been emptied, except for two chairs placed on either side of a desk, where Libra’s scales and sword lay. For a moment, Milton thought they were the only people inside, until he shut the door and saw Daniel slumped in a corner, unconscious.

“Daniel?” said Milton. “What’s he doing here?”

“I couldn’t leave him in one of the rooms,” said Libra, smirking. She sat down and dusted the foot of her scales with her fingers. “Someone has to feed him, make sure he’s OK.”

“…Tuck and The Boy are going through the building, thinking they’re about to find Daniel…”

“How else am I supposed to talk to you without them interrupting? You _can_ sit down.”

Milton didn’t move for a while. He could grab Daniel and run for it; Libra couldn’t possibly keep up with him, especially if he decided to fly.

“Jones, just because I don’t like fighting, it doesn’t mean I can’t do it.” As if to prove her point, she picked up her sword and twirled it between her fingers. “I only want to talk.”

“About what?”

“You have a choice. I can use my scales, or palmistry skills. I can do both if you want.” Libra picked a strand of her hair, and seemed ready to cut the ends off.

“I want to leave.”

“You won’t. I knew we would meet today. I just didn’t know who it was supposed to be.”

“…What?”

“I didn’t have the time to tell if I was supposed to be seeing you or Tuck. All I knew was that whoever walked through the door first wasn’t the one. When Wills interrupted me, I had to request for both of you.”

Milton glanced at Daniel again, and then back at Libra. Her fingers were drumming the edge of the table, but her eyes were on him. Milton was tempted to approach her; it couldn’t hurt to see if anything else lay ahead for him. Besides, she was so different to the other Western Valets, he doubted she was just luring him in, hoping that he would get close enough before stabbing him.

He lingered by the door for a while longer before he finally went over to the desk, and sat down. Libra kept her hands in front of her, waiting for him to make his decision. He eyed her scales, but held out his palms for her instead. He didn’t fancy that sword anywhere near him, even if it was just to cut his hair.

Libra pushed her scales out of the way, and held down Milton’s fingers, so that she got a full view of his palms. She spent a little longer looking at each one than she had done with Thom’s, and she nodded as she let go of his hands.

“You’ll only have eleven masters in your lifetime,” she said. “The older you get, the better your masters … but you should know that already. Stay with your current master, Jones. You’ll benefit the most from him.”

“You’re telling me what the other leaders already know,” said Milton as he slid his hands off the table.

“Give me your palms again, I can show you.” Libra tapped the table, but when Milton refused, she held out her left hand instead, and pointed at the curved line nearest to her thumb. “You see this line? It’s called the life line. Mine’s clean, but every Zodiac Valet has small lines cutting across it. Each line indicates one master. You have eight on your left hand, and three on your right.”

Milton squinted at his own palms, and realised Libra was right. Most were much fainter than the life line itself, except for the lowest one on his right palm.

“You have a much better life line than Tuck’s. I can see no signs of abuse. The closeness of your lines suggests that you served each master for no longer than two years. The only exception is your current master.”

Milton stood up, and started to walk to the door. She had nothing new to tell him. He was going to take Daniel with him and run. He was absolutely certain what Libra’s abilities were; she couldn’t possibly use it to catch up with him if he used his powers.

“Your current master has had a Zodiac Valet before. In fact … I’m going to say that he was Tuck’s first master.”

Milton stopped and spun around. He had been in the safe house when he let Shappi in on the secret; the Western Valets couldn’t have got in undetected. Had she really seen it in his palms? Or was it just a lucky guess?

“…How did you…?” he said. Libra’s smile widened and she gestured at the seat in front of her.

“I told you I could do palmistry. Now, shall we continue?”


	3. Chapter 3

Milton returned to and sat down in his seat as fast as he had got up. He kept looking down at his palms, and wondering what could have possibly given it away.

“Look at your right palm. Do you notice that one of your master lines is particularly deep compared to the rest?” said Libra as she leaned forward. Milton nodded. “That line indicates the master has either already had, or will have another Valet. You’re the second ever Valet I’ve seen with that line.”

“Tuck has one as well,” said Milton.

“Exactly. As soon as I saw yours, I knew you had to be connected.”

“What if it had been a co-incidence?”

“It couldn’t have. There are disputes over what the hands symbolise. However, my ancestors have established that in a male Valet, the left palm represents the life up to 30, and the right is 31 onwards. The first master line on Tuck’s left palm is as deep as yours.

“Before I say any more, tell me, do you believe in destiny or fate? Where do you stand in all that?”

Milton frowned, and said, “I thought it was a waste of time, but now…”

“You’re not so sure. Well, I like to know how cynical you are. It makes my job just that bit more interesting. Actually–” Libra leaned forward until her hair brushed the desk. “–I’ll let you in on a little secret. Not every Western Valet likes my abilities. Some say I talk a load of shit all day.”

“Umm… that’s awful…” said Milton.

“I got my revenge, of course. Anyway, we’re going off the subject. Your palms–” Libra leaned back, and tapped the table. This time, Milton placed his hands back. “–now, a word of warning. You see where your current master’s line is? It actually covers a small cut in your life line – try cupping your hand–”

Even with a cupped hand, Milton still had to squint before he finally saw the cut. The two ends of his life line were so close together, he would never have guessed on his own that it was actually broken.

“Has Tuck got a cut as well…?”

“No. Another line intersects, so on his, the master line appears as a star. That’s even worse than a cut. It seems you know what happened between those two.”

“I don’t. They won’t say.”

“ _Yeeees_ , it makes sense. Poor Tuck … I don’t suppose you know the time when he was born?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh well,” said Libra, shrugging. “Anyway, you still have two years before you pass the cut. Other than that, I see no troubles with your life line. Your heart line’s looking good as well. No intersecting lines suggest you get on with everyone in your clan. Intelligence lines are nice and long, standard for leaders … don’t worry about the fork at the end. That just means you won’t be the father of the heir. I can’t tell you who is just by your palms, but if you let me use the scales…”

“No thanks,” said Milton as he pushed his chair back by digging his heels on the carpet. Libra stared at him, which made him shrink back even more.

“I’m not going to stab you,” she said. “Am I honestly scarier than Sagittarius?”

“…A little bit.”

“I see. Is it because I am a total stranger, yet I seem to know things about you that not even your own clan members do?”

“Yes…”

“Jones, let me make this very clear to you. I don’t. I can’t tell how your contracts with previous masters ended. I can’t tell who your current master is. I can’t even say what that gap in your life line means. All I know is that it isn’t good. If you want to know more, I have to use my scales. In fact–” Libra picked up her sword and held it out for Milton to take. “–you can cut your own hair. Now are you willing to use the scales?”

Milton eyed the sword, but took it anyway. He cut off a strand, and, on Libra’s instructions, tipped it onto the left plate. He handed the weapon back to her, and watched her own hair fall onto the right plate. She clutched her brooch, but as she put her sword down, the left plate plummeted onto the table, startling both of them.

“Well, that’s never happened before,” she said.

“What hasn’t?”

“Your future is clear, Jones. No, _all_ leaders’ futures are clear.” Libra stared Milton straight in the eyes. “Stop hunting down the brooches. Return all the ones you have now.”

Milton didn’t bother answering. He pushed down on the table, ready to stand up again, when Libra continued.

“I mean it, Jones. I’m not saying this because I’ll be helping my people.”

“Then why do you want us to return the brooches?”

“If you do as I say, your lives will be much easier. If you don’t … well, you’ll be creating all sorts of problems on yourselves.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t say. Don’t forget, history has left no such record of this happening. All I’m certain of is that it will be a very bad decision for you all to continue holding onto the brooches.”

“This is …” When Milton couldn’t find an equivalent word that didn’t involve swearing, his palm thudded onto the table. “You’re just trying to stop us from taking any more brooches.”

Libra raised her eyebrows. “I’m not, Jones.”

“Prove it.”

“Again, you are asking me for the impossible.”

“You tell me to stop taking the brooches, but you can’t say why.”

“That’s the way the scales work. You either believe it, or you don’t.” Libra let go of her brooch. “I asked if you were a believer or a cynic. You couldn’t answer me.”

“…Do you _really_ need my answer?” said Milton as he stood up again.

“Of course not. I’m not going to try and change your mind either. You’ll understand later.”

Milton kicked his chair back, prepared to go and grab Daniel, when he glanced again at Libra, and noticed her brooch was still attached to her waistcoat. He lifted his arm a little, ready to click his fingers; first, he’d have to push her to the ground, and then somehow hold her down–

Then he heard the swish of a blade cut through the air, and saw Libra pointing the sword at the middle of his chest. The tip was so close, for it to go in, all she needed to do was take one step forward.

“Don’t even think about it, Jones,” she said. “The only other thing leaving this room is Daniel.”

Milton’s arm remained in the air; yes, the sword was close, but was there a chance he could use his powers to knock it out of her hand first? He could feign a retreat; all he needed was a couple of steps back, and there would be enough of a space to disarm her without impaling himself. If Libra’s only power was seeing the future, then there wasn’t any other way she could stop him.

He dropped both arms by his side, and, making sure that the palms were facing his back, he retreated by a few steps. Libra followed him by leaping over the table; despite creating some distance, it still wasn’t enough for him to safely disarm her. He glanced over his shoulder. He still had some steps to go before he hit the wall…

“I meant my words,” said Libra. “I saw you would try to pull a trick on me. Forget it. It’s fixed that nobody will take my brooch.”

“How do you know it’s fixed?” said Milton.

Libra drew her sword back, and flipped it round so that the face of the blade pressed against her arm. Before Milton could realise what she had done, she thrust the pommel into his chest, which pushed him back until his shoulders bumped into the wall. Libra remained standing on the spot as she watched him recover his balance.

“Leave now, Jones,” she said. “If you try to fight me again, I _will_ run my sword through you.”

Milton was tempted to click his fingers, but he hadn’t done much more than press his fingertips together when he caught Libra’s eyes. She spun her sword round, and despite it being by her side, the tip was still pointing at his thighs. Eventually, he relaxed his hands, and walked towards the exit.

He stopped as he passed Daniel, and, seeing as he was still unconscious, carried him out of the room in a clumsy attempt at a fireman’s lift. He kept expecting Libra to leap out from behind, but nothing happened as he ran down the corridor, and into the main reception. He flew over the counter, and was about to go through the door to the rest of the inn when, coming out that way were Thom and The Boy.

“What the…?” said Thom, his eyes on Daniel.

“She tricked you,” said Milton. The Boy rolled his eyes, and pawed the ground with his front hoof. “We need to get out. Now.”

“Where’s the brooch?”

“I haven’t got it.”

“You haven’t –?”

The Boy started as Milton jumped onto his back. He shot a glance over his shoulders, but Milton was too busy ushering Thom on to even notice.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” said Milton. “Let’s go.”

Milton was so desperate to leave that he didn’t even notice that Thom was holding onto him around his waist. The Boy galloped out of the inn, over patches of grass and soil, before dashing into shadow, and re-emerging in the forest. It was only then that Milton relaxed, glad to be out of Libra’s reach.


End file.
